


Say Something

by Amelita



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4089961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelita/pseuds/Amelita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Powiedz coś](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400606) by [Lilah02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilah02/pseuds/Lilah02)



Most omegas were content to stay inside. They were happy with their books and their dolls and their pretty clothes. Most omegas did as they were told, they were quiet and spoke only when spoken too. Most omegas had no desire to do anything but have babies, cook meals and mop floors. Most omegas were afraid to make eye contact with alphas, much less speak to them and certainly not contradict them. The only alphas most omegas ever spoke to were their mates. Most omegas didn’t pick their mates, they were picked by them. Most omegas were content with being essentially livestock owned, with no property rights, no voting rights and no rights to education or employment. Most were content with the roles their sex allowed them and lived easily within those parameters.

Most omegas _weren’t_ Takaba Akihito.

The first time Asami met him, he was six and Asami was eighteen. Asami was a very proud and solemn eighteen year old. He had joined the palace guard when he became an adult, at sixteen, and had steadily worked his way up in rank. He was very proud to have moved from the gate to the grounds and now inside the palace walls itself. He was very proud of his new uniform that was perfectly tailored to him, with its brass buttons and starched creases. He was prouder still for he was charged with guarding none other than the Little Prince, the first and only son of the King. It was a dangerous job, the last two guards had been demoted to shoveling horse manure in the stables with no hope of future advancement. They had failed at their duties. Asami was determined not fail. Asami took his charge very seriously.

His little charge did not take him _quite_ so seriously.

“Hey!” A small foot planted itself on the back of his ankle in a surprisingly strong kick. Asami looked down in surprise.

The most beautiful pair of blue eyes Asami had ever seen peered up curiously at him. The boy was beautiful, stunningly so. He had expected the child to look like his father, rather portly and piggish with dark eyes set too close together, but it was obvious that the child took after his mother, who had been an omega of great beauty, or so it had been said. The tiny boy was as pale as Asami was dark. He had soft pink skin, chubby cheeks, golden curls and the biggest blue eyes he had ever seen. His lips were like two perfect little rosepetals, full and blooming. He looked like a little angel.

His looks were quite deceptive, as Asami would soon learn.

“You’re supposed to be guarding me, aren’t you?”

Asami nodded stoically, but he said nothing. Palace guards were to be like the furniture; functional, strong and handsome, but also silent and unobtrusive.

Blue eyes sparkled with merriment, “You can’t guard me if you can’t catch me.”

Before the insinuated meaning of that statement could sink into Asami’s head, the little boy was off like a shot. He was a surprisingly fast runner for someone with such short legs.

The new guard gasped and ran after him in hot pursuit. The little one giggled furiously, slipping through rails and banisters and sliding under things that only he could fit through while Asami gave chase, leaping and jumping and trying desperately to maintain his dignified image in front of the rest of the palace workers while the new uniform he had been so proud of became creased and wrinkled and quite disheveled. He chased the Little Prince through the halls and out the door, down the hill and straight into the stables. The chickens squawked as he ran through the coop and they were all stirred up when Asami got there and he caught quite a few wings and feathers to the face as the disgruntled hens gave him the what for for disturbing their quarters. Asami hacked and spit out feathers as he continued to run, catching a flash of blue disappearing behind the goats. He groaned as he realized that the little boy was headed straight for the pigpen. He could smell it from across the yard. The servants laughed and waved cheerily at the beloved Little Prince as he ran by but of course, they weren’t tasked with keeping him safe and inside the castle.

Asami’s dark brows sharpened into a deep frown as he saw the mischievous young child jump into the pen and begin running to the other side. It was obvious he thought that the mud and the stink would deter the guard from chasing him through it, ruining his uniform and that Asami would go around the pit, thereby giving him even greater of a lead and chance to escape. Golden eyes twinkled at the child’s obvious spunk and intelligence and vaulted easily over the railing the little boy had ducked under and landed with a definitive splash in the muck. The Little Prince looked back in surprise and gasped. Unfortunately his little legs were a bit too short to effectively maneuver in the thick mud. It grabbed at his ankles and he slipped and toppled over landing bellyfirst with a loud splatter.

The sound caught the attention of the sow. The female pig had just had a litter of piglets a few days before. She was tired and irritable and out of sorts, snapping at everyone who came near her babies. New mothers were very aggressive and very protective of their blind and nearly helpless babies and Akihito had without realizing it, just stumbled into her nursery. With a roaring, high pitched squeal, one hundred and sixty pounds of pissed-off pork came barrelling at the tiny six year old. The Prince froze, terrified and helpless to extract himself from the mud. Just as the enraged sow was about to trample him under her sharp hooves, strong arms wrapped around his body and hoisted him in the air, safely whisking him up and over the wooden fence. They both watched as the angry pig squealed and grunted at them. She shook her snout and raked the mud with her feet before going back to her piglets.

Asami realized that the little one’s arms were wound about his neck. His chubby cute little body shivering in fear and Akihito squeezed himself close to his guard. Blue eyes blinked up at him through the mud covering his dainty features as he stammered out an apology, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- I just wanted to play in the garden and the other guards wouldn’t let me.”

The young man said nothing. He only grunted and walked over to the well, drawing up a bucket of cold spring water which he promptly dumped over his young charge’s head. The boy squealed and shivered but after two more buckets full he was quite clean of the mud and then Asami repeated the same over his own head.

Two somber, sodden figures trudged back up the hill to the palace but instead of heading for the steps, Asami took hold of his charge’s hand and led him to the gardens. He stooped to take off the boy’s water-filled shoes. They had been silk, fancy, delicate and fine for inside but practically useless outside. They were ruined anyway and the boy would be much happier barefoot on the soft grass. He took off one little shoe and then the other, exposing the little Prince’s dainty bare feet to the green grass. He wiggled his toes and giggled at the tickly feeling. His wide innocent eyes looked up at his bodyguard, “Can I play? Really?”

Asami nodded and the boy took off with a whoop. Asami knew how he felt. His own childhood had been a misery of hard labor and little play. Not that the Little Prince knew anything of hard labor, but he was kept inside the palace walls at all times and Asami well understood how it felt to look out the windows and yearn to run free outside in the sunshine. A slow smile crept across his solemn face as he watched Akihito play delightedly, his golden hair shining the sun.

From that day on, the guard made sure to let the Little Prince out to play each and every day. When the little one tripped, Asami was there to patch his scrapes. When he climbed trees, it was Asami’s arms that broke his fall. He took him to the woods and taught him how to hunt and hide, how to use a knife and a bow and a sword. There was nothing the little one couldn’t do and well. His father’s pride knew no bounds, for before Akihito became King, he would first be General in the King’s army. Secretly, and Akihito only told Asami this, what the boy really wanted was to be an explorer, he wanted to see what was beyond the mountains that surrounded their land. He wanted to travel far and wide and wanted to document all that he found. Akihito loved to draw. He would take his paper and his pens and create the most exacting, precise, perfect little drawings of plants and animals and birds. They were so real it felt like they might just run off the page at any moment. He hid his drawing under his beds or gave them to Asami. Asami kept every single one.

Akihito didn’t want anyone to know about his drawings because art was an Omega sort of pursuit and everyone assumed Akihito would be an Alpha. Omegas were softer creatures, with little interest in what lay outside their homes. They weren’t fit for battle and they certainly weren’t fit for running a kingdom. Akihito was assumed to be an Alpha because male Omegas were practically unheard of, and he was the only son of the King; the crown Prince. For him to be anything but an Alpha was simply…. unthinkable.

When Akihito was ten and Asami was twenty two, the country went to war. Asami was promoted and sent to the frontlines with Akihito crying and clinging to his hand until the last possible moment. No one expected him to come back. He was an Alpha and therefore a great fighter, but he was also a commoner, a poor orphan nobody with no family and no pedigree to speak of. He was placed in the enlisted; troops that were little more than numbers and bullet sponges to protect the ranked officers; men from higher classes with powerful families.

But against all odds, Asami lived. He lived and he thrived, as he always had; in the harshest of conditions.

It was in truth, through Asami’s intelligence and skill that they won the war. The officers were bumbling and inexperienced. They were not malicious on the most part, but very inept for they had received their rank based on nepotism, not ability. There was no better way to lose a war or get men killed than by placing the worst at the top. The enlisted men both knew it and feared it.

Asami quickly rose to the top of the enlisted, though he could go no higher because of his birth. He was the link between the officers and the ranks, he was the one who translated the orders from the higher ups. He was, in fact, the one who changed them and turned them into good strategy. It was Asami and Asami alone who saved hundreds and thousands of his comrade’s lives and won the war for the King. But when he came home five years later, while the officers were given rewards of titles and lands, Asami was given back his former job as if nothing had changed. Over the past five years he had become a warrior, his stature was immense, his skin leathered and his sword arm strong. He was a leader of men and a great fighter, to put him back in the palace guard was an insult at best, a jab at Asami’s poor birth, but he said nothing. Some of the officers who knew what Asami had done told the King but the King did not believe it. In the end he relented and awarded Asami a brass medal to wear. It was almost even more insulting than being ignored. Asami still said nothing.

When he returned to the palace he quickly realized that he was not the only one who had changed, so had the Little Prince, whose beloved memory had sustained him all those long years. There was only one thing Asami had been fighting for, and it was never glory or gold. It wasn’t the King Asami fought for, it was the Prince. Every night on his hard bed under the stars, Asami closed his eyes and replayed all of his most beautiful memories from his time as Akihito’s bodyguard. Memories of teaching the Little Prince to swim, picnics in the grass, holding him as they rode horseback, those were the memories that kept the nightmares at bay. Those were the thoughts that Asami replayed behind his eyelids, instead of the blood and the horror of war. Those were the memories Asami had fought for.

The Little Prince had blossomed while Asami had been away. At the ceremony to commendate the returning soldiers, the boy was clothed in silk, his fair hair sparkling as he sat on the stage behind his father. His clear blue eyes were the same, as well as his dainty features and beautiful pink lips. Asami held his breath as the boy’s eyes scanned over the crowd but they did not stop on him, they showed no recognition. He expected the Little Prince to make a speech, for the King to gush with pride over his heir, but that was not what happened. The Little Prince was swept behind him, his thin shoulders slumped, his eyes downcast as he followed the King like a shadow. In the ceremony he took on the role of pinning the medals to the soldiers lapels; a traditionally Omegan role. When he got to Asami, Asami willed him to look up to make eye contact, to show some spark that he was the same spirited boy Asami had once loved. His gaze stayed down well below Asami’s chin, he never made eye contact, not once. He was acting just like an Omega.

That was when the wheels began to click. He had softer features, he was still so small and petite, his skin so soft. Asami leaned forward slightly and scented his golden hair as the boy fumbled with the pin on his starched uniform. A wave of heat broke out of Asami’s skin and he began to sweat as he realized. The boy smelled like cream and sugar, sweet and slick, love and MATE. Mate and home. Omega.

The Little Prince was an Omega. It was enough to make Asami’s knees tremble.

He got the entire story later from one of the cooks in the palace kitchen. The Little Prince had presented just after his fifteenth birthday, not even a year ago. The King’s fury had reached the depths of the the sea and heights of the mountains. Akihito was to have been his heir, but an Omega could not inherit the crown. He could no more rule the land than could the royal cows and to the King, he was worth about the same. The cook explained that up until the moment Akihito had gone into heat, he had been groomed to take his father’s place. He was incredibly gifted academically, he was a talented archer, an expert horseman, quite dangerous with a sword and a gifted public speaker. But none of that had mattered to the King once he realized that Akihito was not the Alpha everyone thought he was. Akihito had been from that point onward, locked inside the castle and forced into a traditional Omega role; passing time looking pretty until his sixteenth birthday at which point he would married to the Alpha the King chose to be his husband. That as-yet unknown Alpha was the one who would be the future King. Akihito would never be anything more than the pretty face on his arm and a womb to bear his children. Asami took it all in, but he said nothing.

And when he heard the young Prince crying in his bed late at night from his post outside his door, Asami still said nothing.

The next morning when Akihito stared him down with red-rimmed eyes, betrayal written all over his pretty face, Asami said nothing.

He said nothing when Akihito flew at him and pounded on his chest with his small fists, in both relief and anger at seeing Asami again and having been left behind. He both cried and screamed at him but still Asami said nothing.

He said nothing when Akihito ran away, time and time again. Each time Asami caught him and dragged him kicking and screaming back to the castle. The last time he did it with Akihito strewn indignantly face first over the front of his saddle. The servants were mortified. His father was furious. Asami said nothing.

The truth was, he didn’t mind that the Omega Prince was just as willful, stubborn and spirited as he had been as a child. He enjoyed his rants about the Alpha idiots who ran the world and tried not to mind that Akihito lumped him in with the rest of them. Akihito stopped calling him Asami and started calling him ‘Hey You’ and ‘Idiot Alpha’ and taking out his frustration on Asami alone. The boy made him want to both cuddle him and spank him at same time, but he said nothing.He knew the boy's anger wasn't with him, not really. 

Asami watched the other castle Omegas carefully and it was clear that the more they tried to force Akihito into that role, the more apparent it became to Asami that Akihito would never be play the part they wanted and it would kill him to try. It made Asami sick to his stomach to see how the Omegas were expected to follow their Alphas around like little silent slaves, kneeling at their feet with nothing more to say than ‘Yes Alpha.’ and ‘Thank you Alpha’. They were like well trained dogs with owners. Akihito was more like a cat. No one can tell a cat what it can and cannot do. Cats don’t listen and they certainly don’t care. They do what they do and they are who they are, no matter what anyone else had to say about it. Which is why Akihito’s constant escape attempts amused Asami more than irritated him. He didn’t mind chasing when the boy ran. Sometimes he even let the boy get as far as the hills, let him get that sense of the freedom and adventure that Akihito so desperately craved, but always under his watchful eye, though Akihito didn’t know that. The boy had a canvas rucksack that he filled with food and survival supplies and all the things Asami taught him to carry in the woods. He also carried a notebook with drawing pencils. Asami always caught him, but he never left the boy’s rucksack behind and when Akihito awoke, tucked safely back in his own bed, the notebook was always at his bedside. Each new drawing was dated and labelled and the rucksack would be waiting, empty of all the things Akihito had carefully stolen and hoarded to make his escape. Asami knew it would take him weeks to get enough supplies to make another attempt. Akihito would spit insults and accusation at his bodyguard, but true to form, Asami said nothing.

The tall dark haired man said nothing when the King began trying to decide who to betroth his son to, who would be the next ruler. He said nothing when the King mysteriously became ill and he said nothing when the King died unexpectedly and the Kingdom was thrown into turmoil without a ruler. A meeting was called of the King’s Counsel and a decision was made to let the new ruler be decided by a Trial. It was an ancient law that had never been changed because no one thought it would ever be needed. The law stated that a tournament would be held and all able bodied warriors in the Kingdom were eligible to compete. It was not a traditional tournament with jousting and archery and contests. There was only one event and the winner of that event would be declared King. Many of the council members wanted the tournament limited to those of noble blood only, but the parchment was clear and the scribes would not hear of it. All able bodied men were allowed to enter, no matter how low their birth. The high-born laughed at the idea of a commoner taking on the title of King, but they were not worried it would actually come to pass. The thought was ludicrous for how could a commoner afford all of the things they would need in the tournament; armor, swords and shields. They would be no match for a well armed noble trained from birth in the art of combat. No, they were not worried and each felt sure that their son was sure to win. One of the Lords mentioned the Little Prince and it was also decided that he would be given to the winner of the tournament as a trophy. The Alpha could marry his prize, keep the boy as a concubine, or sell him as a slave, it didn’t really matter. Afterall, he was just an Omega.

Asami stood guarding the door and listened, as invisible and unnoticed as the furniture in the great hall. He said nothing.

But his was the first name on the list when the tournament was announced.

-


	2. Chapter 2

Asami watched as the boy ran away again. He watched from the shadows of the castle as he picked the lock on his window and inched out onto the sill. Asami could have easily barred the windows but he found he never had the heart. The boy's heart would die in a cage. Like a bird, he longed to fly and so, every so often, Asami let him, even if it was only an illusion. The rucksack hit the ground with a thump. It was quite full this time. Asami grinned, the cook was going to be angry. The boy jumped to the tree and shimmied down the limb to the ground. He was dressed in dark clothes with a navy blue cap over his bright blond hair. He looked left, he looked right and then bolted across the garden. He trailed almost silently along the wall and once he reached the guard tower he paused. There were two guards on duty that night. Akihito picked up a rock and threw it against the rocks on the wall opposite him. Both guards turned to look and Akihito slipped through the slats in the gate. He was still small and slender enough to fit easily. He ran down the hill and hid behind a outbuilding before the guards turned back. When he was sure it was safe, the Little Prince continued on his way down into the city.

Asami waited until he was out of sight before whistling to the guards. They opened the gate for him and he strode through. One of them called down to him, “He’s getting better at this eh?” Asami grinned in remembrance of some of Akihito’s early, disastrous escape attempts, but he didn’t say anything.

He followed him at a distance, keeping silently to the shadows, ever cautious to keep him in view. It wasn’t necessary, Asami could have tracked his honey-caramel scent from a mile away. It was the pure, glorious smell of a fresh, virgin Omega. It was an irresistible Siren’s call to every Alpha in a ten mile radius. They came out into the night like termites wiggling to the surface of rotten wood.

Asami dispatched them all quickly and efficiently, cracking bones and breaking noses with ease and considerable pleasure. Every now and then Akihito looked behind him but by then Asami would have his would-be assailants pinned down in the alleyways and the Little Prince would see nothing behind him but shadows. The boy continued on through the little town and slipped out through a tiny hole in the rock wall that surrounded the city. Asami had known about it for ages but he never ordered it patched. Asami went through the gates and then stopped and leaned against the wall and watched him run across the open plains. There was nothing but space between the city and the forest, just wide open moor. There was nothing really that could hurt him on the moor, except maybe the rattlesnakes in the underbrush, but Asami had taught him well and the boy always stayed on the paths. His golden eyes watched as the boy’s long legs gobbled up the distance between them, putting him ever farther away, closer and closer to his dream of a life of freedom, far from the castle.

He waited until the Little Prince disappeared into the forest and then swung up on the horse that was saddled, watered and waiting for him by the city gates. The black stallion moved swiftly and silently through the moor and into the woods. He was an Arabian, swift and nimble of foot and moved silently through the woods tracking the Little Prince. The boy was smart enough to know that he wasn’t safe, not yet. He moved quickly through the woods, running just as fast as he could manage on foot. The boots Asami had supplied were warm and had thick treads. Asami had learned that if he didn’t give him proper shoes, Akihito would run away without them. The first time he had escaped, his feet had been injured by the sharp rocks through the thin soles of his palace shoes and Asami never made that mistake again. No, the boy had boots perfect for the rough terrain and weather resistant pants and a thick fur lined cloak to protect him from the chill. It began to drizzle and Akihito lifted his face to the rain, trying to catch the raindrops on his tongue and Asami smiled from the shadows. The joy Akihito felt at being free of his gilded cage was written all over his face. Asami wanted him to look like that always.

He let him wander in the woods for hours, ignorant of the dark shadow trailing and protecting him through the night. And when the boy’s exhaustion finally caught up with him and he stumbled in his tiredness, only then did Asami steer his mount out of the thicket and let the moonlight fall on him.

Akihito froze the moment he saw him and cried out in anguished defeat, “No! NO! NO!" He broke into a sprint, darting into the underbrush. The stallion’s hooves pounded the ground behind him, gaining easily as Asami leaned down, catching him with one heavily muscled arm and pulling him into his lap. The boy pounded his chest ineffectually and then stopped suddenly. Asami looked down at him in surprise. Normally he raged until they were halfway back to the castle. Small hands fisted in his black uniform shirt. Blue eyes implored him, “Please Asami. Please. Can’t you just let me go? Just this once? What does it matter now? I’m not the Prince anymore, I’m nothing and I’m nobody. You know what they are going to do with me tomorrow? They are going to let the Alphas fight over me, like dogs over a bone! I’m part of the prize! Just a prize-”

Akihito’s voice broke into anguished sobs, his thin body shaking from emotion. Asami gently pushed his head down into his chest, holding him in his arms. He said nothing.

“Just let me go Asami, please.” He moaned in despair.

Asami only held him tighter. He still said nothing.

Soon the boy’s exhaustion caught up with him, the warmth of Asami’s arms and the rocking of the horse put him into a deep sleep. He relaxed against Asami, cuddling up against him, breathing evenly. Asami threaded his hands through the boy’s soft blond hair, cupping the back of his head. This is what it was all for, for him. So that he could hold him, just for a few moments, hold him and pretend that the boy wanted to be in his arms. Hold him and pretend that he was more to Akihito than his loyal bodyguard.

He held him tightly as they made their way back to the castle. Asami pulled off his black boots and his cloak and stripped Akihito down to his undershirt before tucking him in his royal bed. Akihito’s lips were parted as he breathed and Asami paused over him, breathing in the air the Little Prince exhaled. To Asami it was the smell of Mate and Home. Asami wanted to kiss his perfect pink petal lips but he did not. His fingers brushed the boy's cheek in longing, but he said nothing.

The next morning, the excitement was buzzing in the air. The entire Kingdom had turned out to see the Trial, to see who the winner would be; the next King and who would take home the prize. Akihito fought him tooth and nail. He had to force him to get dressed and drag him down the stairs. Finally Asami just threw him over his shoulder and brought him bodily to the arena. A private area away from all the other observers was set up for him, a chair draped in white, as if for a virgin sacrifice. Asami had to tie him to it, his arms bound to the hand rests. Akihito spat at him as he did it, “I hate you.” His voice cracked with hurt and anger.

The spittle dripped down Asami's cheek, but he made no move to wipe it away. He said nothing.

The boy’s blue eyes filled with tears as the curtains were drawn back and the crowd could see him. Cheers rose. The tournament was about to begin. The hungry eyes of dozens of Alphas fell on his small body and beautiful face. Akihito bowed his head as the first tear fell. Asami caught it in his hand. The boy stared up at him, “Why couldn’t you just let me go?”

The tall Alpha held the tear in his palm, but still, said nothing. He turned and joined the other Alphas on the field while Akihito’s eyes burned with betrayed tears.

Asami stood out amongst the nobles. They were wearing all the finest armor, handcrafted by artisans in glittering steel and gold, each suit was fit for a King. Asami wore only the uniform of the King’s guard, he wore not even the barest of chain mail to protect his flesh. Their swords were the finest in the land, hilted with jewels and diamonds. Asami had only the longsword he had carried in the war. It was polished, carefully sharpened with flint stone, the tip was razorsharp. It showed no sign of all the blood it had shed in the war. The noblemen carried thick, heavy shields with their prestigious family crests emblazoned upon them in bold colors so everyone would know who they were. Asami had no shield, only a pair of weathered forearm bracers, leather, with steel inside, to protect him from the blows.

He was the only commoner who had dared to enter his name. Most of the nobles smirked to one another but a few who had served with Asami in the war turned pale and to their family’ great shame, dropped out of the tournament.

All of the Alphas were given a chance to speak to the crowd. Many of the nobles gave great speeches, about themselves, full of fancy words and empty promises, to incite the patriotism of the crowd. When it was his turn, Asami said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the Little Prince and when the horn was blown to signify the start of the fight, Asami silently dropped to his knee, with his hand over his heart. It was tradition that before ever duel, every tournament, every battle, the participants were to turn to one’s King in a silent pledge. None of the nobles even bowed. One took advantage of what they thought was Asami’s inattention to bring his sword down behind the large warrior's shoulder blades and stab him in the back. He did it with a cruel smirk, wanting the first man that fell in the Trial to be the insolent commoner. He wanted to send a message to the rest; not to rise above their station.

Asami moved in a blur turning and blocking the blow with his heavy bracer. The noble’s beautiful but weak sword glanced off and snapped in two but that was of little consequence to him because to the arrogant young man’s astonishment, Asami’s longsword was thrust up and through the seam in his armor, into his belly and twisted. The beautiful armor gave way with a screech as it bent open. The noble watched as the contents of his abdomen spilled onto the ground through the opening. The crowd was silent and only the gurgles of his death were heard. The rest of the nobles froze in horror as the rules were suddenly changed on them.

They had not been expecting to fight to the death. They had been expecting more civilized duels, their swords bouncing and parrying off each other’s shields and armor until one conceded to the other. They had expected perhaps that some might receive injuries, lose a limb perhaps or even an eye, but death? Death they had not even considered.

One of the other men roared in anguished fury at his friend’s death and ran at Asami with his sword drawn. His body continued moving forward for a few moments after his head bounced on the floor of the arena, safe and sound in its ornamental golden helmet. His eyes stared up as if he couldn’t quite believe his head was no longer attached to his body. It took a few moments for his eyes to close. Asami wiped his blade on his thigh and waited for the next. He did not have to wait long.

They surrounded him and came at him in groups like cowards, not willing to give Asami a fair fight. He blocked their polished moves easily. He was not one trained in the art of war. It was not ‘art’ to Asami. It was battle; brutal and cold, gory and calculated. There was no polish to his moves, no fairness, no right or wrong. There was only winning and losing. It mattered not to Asami how he got there. One of the men cowered behind his shield, trying to jab at Asami from behind its safety. Asami cut him off at the knees, using the weak point in the joints of his armor. His body toppled over like a pine broken from it roots. Another charged him, only to be impaled on Asami's great sword and thrown into the air like a caber with the blade sticking through his back. He landed in the stands, his hot blood spattering over the crowd. The mighty warrior was a blur of motion, moving far faster than the knights weighted down by sixty pounds of armor and steel. He used the point of his longsword to thrust into their unplated, most vulnerable areas, including the armpits, slits in a helmet, the groin, the top behind the clavicle, and below the bottom of the breastplates. The other men had never fought in hand to hand combat before, not outside of training. Those who had been in the war had been officer class, placed away from the fighting, overlooking the clash from a high hill perhaps, where it was safe to ‘strategize’. They had never been face to face with the blood and the pain and the fear, surrounded by the screams of the dying. They had never worn armor before and had insisted that it be made for their comfort, not too tight, which left many gaps for Asami’s sword to pass through. Each blow was deadly and those that did not die instantly, bled out within minutes.

They fell like flies.

Some realized the futility of the actions and ran screaming to escape the arena. Asami let none go. Those who had entered the tournament would finish the tournament. He would win, completely.

It was less than thirty minutes from the start of the tournament to the end. It had been expected to be an all day event. Some had even brought picnics.

The sand of the floor of the arena had become mud, soaked in the blood of the sons of the highborn. He had killed the heirs of the ruling class and all those who would have worn the crown lay dead at his feet. With a roar he killed the last knight standing, slitting his throat in a spray of blood. He grabbed the young knight’s long black hair and twisted his head from his body with a sickening snap. The crowd was silent but for the mother’s weeping over their sons.

Asami stood in the center of the massacre holding the Little Prince’s would-be betrothed’s head by the hair as blood poured from its severed neck. His eyes were fixed only on the Little Prince as he took one step and then another towards him. No one stopped him, no one said a word. He was the King, by Trial and the Law of Old. There was no cause to stop him from claiming that which was rightfully his, and no one that would have dared.

Asami stepped onto the platform and dropped the severed head at Akihito’s feet with a thunk on the planks. It rolled to rest between his toes, blank eyes staring up at him as blood soaked the hem of his royal robes. With the bloodied tip of his sword Asami slit the ropes that bound the boy to the chair. The boy didn’t move. He was frozen in terror, his wide blue eyes stared up at the massive warrior covered in blood and sweat and mud. To his right on a golden altar lay the crown of the King, to be awarded to the winner of the tournament and an Omegan collar signifying the ownership of the Little Prince. Both prizes Asami had won.

The Alpha picked up both items and held them in his hands.

He stared at them, letting the power wash over him. All he had to do was put the crown on his head and the Kingdom would be his. All he had to do was take the collar to bind the boy. Akihito would be his Omega. He would kneel at his feet and Asami would call him ‘Mine’. He could see the beautiful blond now, his neck bowed in submission as he was claimed by his Alpha. Mine. A heady wave of desire washed over Asami as he turned to stare at the Little Prince. He held the collar in his right hand, the crown in his left. The weight in his hands tempted him.

He gazed into the loveliest blue eyes he had ever seen and suddenly it was easy to remember that his decision had already been made for him... a long, long time ago; the first time he had looked into those bold beautiful eyes.

Asami knelt before the Little Prince and finally, he said something.

His voice was strong and deep and its message washed over the crowd with perfect clarity, “Your Highness, you are not a prize to be won or an object to be owned. You belong to no one, but yourself. You are my King. You have always been my King and I have been, and will always be, your man.”

With those words, he lowered the blood soaked crown on Akihito’s head and into his small hand, he pressed the Omegan collar, the symbol of his subjugation, and, his freedom.

On trembling legs, the boy stood before him, the crown on his brow, as it should have been, as was his birthright. Asami bowed his head before his King. The rest of the Kingdom followed suit, dropping knee after knee to the Omega, acknowledging their sovereign.

It was a moment that would go down in history as the Bloody Coronation of the Virgin King. Not that it was that simple, quick or easy. It was certainly not the last of the blood Asami would shed on his King’s behalf. There were many uprisings, dissidents, large groups revolting against being led by an Omega and a commoner. But the majority of the kingdom were commoners themselves and the army was already loyal to Asami. As every dictator knows, he who rules the army, rules the country. The rebellions were quashed quickly and brutally, the nobles behind them were sent to work as slaves in the mines, their lands dispersed to the people who had worked them all along.

And though Asami was the iron fist that ruled the country, his actions were always carried out on behalf of the King, for Asami was in every way, the King's man and Akihito's wish was his command. The young King ruled with grace, beauty and wisdom beyond his years. To Akihito the primary, the most urgent requirement was establishing equality for Omegas. He knew there was no way for the country to thrive as long as so many of its citizens lived in bondage, imprisoned in their homes and unable to contribute. He felt it would be achieved through the promotion of education; the great equalizer. He felt the principal reason for the decline and fall of his people was simply ignorance. Immediately, the laws were changed regarding Omegas, they were no longer regarded as property and were given all the same rights as Alphas, but Akihito was smart enough to understand that all the laws in the world wouldn’t change the way his people thought; how the Alphas viewed the Omegas and how the Omegas viewed themselves. Only education, only opening their minds to new ideas and a greater understanding of the world around them could do that. The only remedy for inequality is education, for equality meant equal qualification and equal qualification meant equal opportunity. Only education and the arts of civilization would bring honor, prosperity, independence and freedom to the government and its people.

He established public education, a requirement for all citizens young and old. He established the first university, the Omegan police charged with protecting the rights of the Omegas, libraries and public services. Akihito appointed a ruling council, directly answerable to the people. He understood the inherent dangers of pure democracies that, by their very nature, inevitably trample individual rights and oppress minorities by imposing the will of the majority on all. He also understood that the same danger was inherent in a monarchy. Akihito sought to establish a Republic; a representative democracy with a written constitution of basic rights that protect the minority from being completely unrepresented or overridden by the majority. The elected officials were to be accountable to the people but not controlled by them. Akihito made sure that an equal number of Alphas and Omegas were appointed to his counsel. There was an equal number of representatives and Akihito was the tie breaker, should one be needed. He set up a sustainable, accountable system of government that would adapt and change and bring great prosperity and equality to his country for generations to come.

Unlike most dictators, Akihito had no real desire for power, which was why he was the best suited to hold it. He did not covet it and so was not afraid to give it to others. As he delegated away, he reduced the power of the monarchy, transforming it from a dictatorship into a constitutional monarchy, greatly limiting the power held by the King. And slowly, but surely, Akihito became more of a figurehead for his country, the Virgin King, a beloved and adored symbol of times gone by. When he walked in the streets, ever shadowed by his loyal Guard, the children threw rose petals at his feet and when he kissed a baby’s brow, that babe was thought to be blessed. His country worshiped and loved him as he grew from boy to man. The country thrived and bloomed and blossomed under his gentle guidance and the land became quite wealthy as each citizen was able to contribute to their fullest ability and oppression became a thing of the past. The memory of war and discord faded over the years as peace and stability became the norm.

It was just after his twenty-fifth birthday when the King finally decided he was no longer needed. He turned to his General, the head of the King’s guard, the tall dark haired man who had watched over him and protected him his entire life, who had carried out his every orders, faithfully and crushed all those who might have stolen his birthright. Akihito turned to him with a smile and told him that he had accomplished everything he desired and now wished to do what he had wanted as a child. He wanted to leave his Kingdom, to travel, to explore all that lay beyond their lands, and to see what was behind the mountains.

Asami bowed his head but he said nothing.

Though his heart was breaking, he said nothing as the boy said his farewells and he said nothing as the boy packed his bags. He said nothing as Akihito excitedly planned his journey and nothing as the boy saddled his horse. The older man had not fought and won his beloved’s freedom, only to take it from him now.

With heavy steps he knelt before his Little Prince, the one that he loved more than life itself, and kissed the hand he held so dear, bidding him goodbye.

But still, he said nothing.

Akihito looked down at him in confusion, “Where’s your stuff?”

Asami‘s gaze jerked up in surprise and Akihito began to laugh, “Stupid Alpha, don’t you know you are coming with me? Now where would I go without you? You are mine, you said so yourself!”

And then his beloved; the Little Prince, the Virgin King, pulled Asami up by the hand, forcing him to stand by his side as he asked, their fingers intertwined, his blue eyes sparkling with love and desire, “After all you put me through, are you ready for whats to come?”

Asami said nothing, but his smile, said _everything_.

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